When She Loves You
by Hostile Hobnob
Summary: FTM!Rachel, experiments with 2nd and 3rd person POV. Rachel Berry doesn't really feel like a woman inside- he feels like a man. He disappears from his old life, changes his name to Liam and lives his life as a male. Unrequited!Faberry. Contains Trans character. Duh.
1. Senior Year

**AN: Quick little oneshot I wrote while trying my hand at 2nd person. It's a bit poetic as well, which fits the POV IMHO. Rachel is trans (ftm) in this.**

**EDIT: As requested, this will be extended. Expect updates on this!**

* * *

You wince as you sing the first note.

It sounds too high.

You think it should be deep.

You think it should be masculine.

You think it should resonate within your chest instead of float in your head.

But it doesn't.

You sing on, despite the feeling of dread.

As you move around the room, you stare at Quinn Fabray, former HBIC and now your current friend, trying to gauge her emotions.

She looks indifferent, but you know better. Quinn's personality is layers upon layers built onto each other. You desperately want to peel back those layers and find out what's inside. Her personality isn't the only thing you want to strip away.

You scold yourself for the naughty thought. You decide to focus on the song instead of not-so-discreetly leer at Quinn.

Throughout the performance, you find yourself glancing at Quinn. Noting her immaculate eyebrows, her strong jaw. Her long and shapely legs, her pale skin. You think she is a gorgeous creature.

You finish the song. You were barely thinking about your performance. Mr. Schuester probably notices your lack of drive and emotion, but doesn't make a remark about it.

Instead, he praises you. Just like he always does. He tells you that you were excellent. That your song choice was divine. That you killed the high notes.

In reality, you don't care.

You don't care about the quality.

You don't care about the praise.

You certainly don't care about how high you can sing.

The only thing you really care about is Quinn's reaction.

But she is impossible for you to read.

So you take a seat, staring down at your very un-manly hands (although you secretly wished they were), avoiding Quinn's gaze and wonder when the hell your life will get better.

When you can become male.

When your voice deepens.

When you can stop wearing these girly clothes.

When your chest looks flat.

When Quinn will love you back.

You listen to the assignment parameters that Mr. Schuester is preaching, but you can't focus.

You feel awful. You feel so wrong on so many levels, it's all you can do not rip off your skirt, exposing plaid boxers underneath, and declare your man-ness.

You obviously don't do this.

It takes four Brittany outbursts, three Artie 'holla's and one constipated baby look from Finn until Quinn finally returns your gaze.

Finally.

She gives you a tense smile, then redirects her attention to Mr. Schuester. It's better than nothing, you say to yourself.

The bell rings, interrupting Schue midshpeal. Excellent.

* * *

_**3rd**_

Berry was at his locker to putting away a couple books and retrieve his lunch. He humed Music of the Night to himself as he busied himself in the task at hand. It had been three weeks since the awkward performance and tense gaze from Quinn.

"Hey, girlfriend!" the brown haired boy spun around to face the feminine voice. It's Mercedes. Of course. You also mentally wince at the feminine name.

"Hi Mercedes."

"So all the Glee girls were going to go out for lunch and we wanted to see if you could come. I know you're vegan and all, but we really would like you there. What do you say?" Berry was caught. He didn't want to turn down Mercedes yet again, but he also did not want to go to a 'Boys-are-evil-girls-rule' type of outing. He gave in and decided to go. He didn't want to loose Mercedes or Tina or any of the girls' friendship.

"Fine. I'll come."

Mercedes replied with a very, very shrill squeal.

**xxx**

Berry shouldntve come. He feels awkward and out of place with all of these girls, chat about cute guys, and the latest fashion and whatever normal high school double x chromosomes talk about. Which Berry knew nothing about. So, he decided to zone out, daydream a little. It's not like he was the life of the party.

Names. He definitely needs a name. He's identified as male for quite some time now, but he's never really considered what he wants to be called. Since he hasn't come out to his dads, he can't ask for help from them. He'll just have to figure it out himself.

Ray? No, he says to himself, most definitely not. Too similar.

Michael? Crawford was the Phantom to Barbra Streissand's Christine. It could work. He saves this one in the back of his mind.

Liam? He likes this one quite a bit. It's simple, straightforward and definitely masculine. It also sounds fine with his last name. He decides that he'll go with it. William, Liam for short, Michael Berry. It's perfect. Liam is pleased with his new name to no end, and happily sips his juice.

* * *

_**2nd**_

You grow more and more nervous as your name approaches in the alphabetical order of seniors receiving their diploma. The graduation spirit is in the air, but you can't feel it.

All you feel is hollow inside.

You didn't come out.

You didn't qualify for valedictorian.

You didn't apply for NYADA.

You didn't even get to tell Quinn you loved her.

"Rachel Berry!"

You trudge up to the stage. You hate the ridiculously tall heels you have on, even if you do get to be closer to normal height. You hate the beautiful dress you have on under the red graduation robe. You hate almost everything about the day.

You wish you had more time. You wish you could redo high school. Be a little less annoying. Be a little less egotistical. Be a little nicer. Be a whole lot more truthful. You think it sucks that an entire school will remember you as the fake girl you always played, instead of the real guy you are inside.

You accept the diploma.

You shake the hands.

You return to your seat.

Your dads tell you they love you.

They tell you they are proud of you.

But in reality, you aren't even proud of yourself.

**xxx**

You move out as quickly as possible.

You deem which items you own actually mean something to you, and which ones are props for the part of Rachel Berry.

You delete your Facebook.

You disconnect your phone number.

You fall off the face of the planet, un contactable to anyone. Not even your dads know about you.

You wish you were more of a man than the coward you are. You're running away from your problems. You're running away from Quinn.

But now, you're Liam Michael Berry, new and upcoming star in the creative writing department at NYU.

You have short and messy hair that brushes the tops of your ears ever so lightly and a sparse dusting of stubble along your jaw. You have laughed at the irony of Santana's insults many times.

You still wear argyle, although the animal sweaters have been tucked into a trunk with other high school memories. Your skirts have been replaced by smart khakis and chinos that rest on the top of shiny dress shoes.

You have been on hormones for five months by the time December rolls around. You are so happy with your life, but still so so depressed inside. You desperately wish you could see the Glee club once again, and make everything right.


	2. Unadmirable Plans

**AN: **Decided to write a companion chaper from Quinn's pov. **Misgendering TW** due to Liam not being out.

* * *

**QUINN POV**

Quinn likes sitting in the back. It gives her an opportunity to survey the general behaviour of the room. Who's having under-the-table sex (literally), who's got their phone in their lap, texting and who's just zoning off. Like herself.

So here she sat in glee, ignoring Mr. Schue drone on about Journey songs or how excellent Rachel is or whatever for the millionth time, watching all the couples in the room. Mike and Tina lacing hands delicately, Sam and Mercedes met in the middle by noses and Santana and Brittany with pinkies linked all look so serenely happy to Quinn. They looks in their eyes are all the same. They've found the person they love, and that makes Quinn so damn jealous. Why can't she have that? Why can't she find just one person, one freaking person that makes her heart flutter. Quinn tries to ignore how she thought "person"instead of "man".

"Okay, give your attention to Rachel. She'll be filling this weeks assignment for 'Sad Love Ballads'" Quinn refocuses her attention to the gorgeous brunette. Quinn never misses an opportunity to hear Rachel's soaring soprano, which in Puck's words, is like an 'eargasm'. Crude, but accurate.

"I've chosen a somewhat unorodox piece for my usual tastes this week, but it really speaks to me and I hope it will for you guys too." Quinn detects uncertainty in her words, almost as if she's unsure, or given up. Quinn thinks this is odd, but doesn't call it out.

_With one or two I get used to the room_  
_We go slow when we first make our moves_  
_By five or six bring you out to the car_  
_Number nine with my head on the bar_

_And it's sad, but true_  
_Out of cash and I.O.U's_

_I've got desperate desires and unadmirable plans_  
_My tongue will taste of gin and malicious intent_  
_Bring you back to the bar_  
_Get you out of the cold_  
_A sober, straight face gets you out of your clothes_  
_And they're scared that we know_  
_All the crimes they'll commit_  
_Who they'll kiss before they get home_

_I will lie awake_  
_Lie for fun and fake the way I hold you_  
_Let you fall for every empty word I say_

_Barely conscious in the door where you stand_  
_Your eyes are fighting sleep as your mouth makes your demands_  
_You laugh at every word trying hard to be cute_  
_I almost feel sorry for what I'm going to do_  
_And your hair smells of smoke_  
_Who will cast the first stone?_  
_You can sin or spend the night all alone_

_Brass buttons on your coat hold the cold_  
_In the shape of a heart that they cut out of stone_  
_You're using all your looks that you've thrown from the start_  
_If you let me have my way I swear I'll tear you apart_  
_'cause it's all you can be_  
_You're a drunk and you're scared_  
_It's ladies' night, all the girls drink for free_

_I will lie awake_  
_And lie for fun and fake the way I hold you_  
_Let you fall for every empty word I say_

The song is so beautiful, so sad and so powerful. Rachel sings with a conviction that is unmatchable. The words tumble out of her lips like water in a fall. The beginning is soft and soulful, letting Rachel bring out a hidden husky tonality Quinn didn't knew she had. The middle builds up until the last verse ends with Rachel belting in her powerful higher range.

It was all so beautiful, except for the words. Quinn thought they were beautiful and all, but they were speaking of an awful deed. A man that seems nice and wonderful ends up raping his date under the influence of alcohol. It sounds like he's not even sorry. The man is lying and using innocent girls for fun. He is absolutely despicable, but Quinn feels oddly drawn to the story. Rachel wasn't singing this song for the obvious purpose, so Quinn mulled over a possible second meaning. The rapist could be a metaphor for something much larger. An emotion greater than words could describe. Everything about her performance today was so odd for her, but so enchanting, right down to her body language.

It could only be described as otherworldly. Instead of her usual powerful front-on take, she sits on a stool, subtly bent over, as if she's guarding something that the world shouldn't see. Her hands roamed around her facial area, performing ever nervous tick known to man. The hair-behind-the-ear-tuck, neck rubbing, you name it. The body language directly correlates with the uncertainty in her foreword, which Quinn yet again finds odd. Maybe the posture wasn't just for show. Maybe something was actually going on.

Mr Schue claps loudly as the last note hits, ruining the tension Rachel created in the room.

"Rachel, I'm shocked! I didn't know you had that power in you! Eccentric song choic, out of your box definitely, but you handled it so well. I-"

The bell rings mid Schuepeal, and everyone scrambles to collect their bags and get out.

"I'm excited to see the rest of your guys' performances on Monday!"

**XxX**

"Rachel, you did so well in Glee on Friday." Quinn praises Rachel, yet she sees her flinch. Another curious thing to stack on top.

"Thanks."

"I was wondering what you meant by the song. It's obviously written about a rapist, but I didn't think that's really how you interpreted the lyrics." Rachel bites her lip, appearing to be formulating an answer

"I took it in the emotions portrayed." Rachel says finally, "as in, the way the guy felt. Taking the circumstance aside, you almost kind of feel sorry for the guy. He knows he's doing something wrong, and he knows he would be feeling awful, but he doesn't. He's dragging her metaphorically by the stirrups, leading her on that he's a real person, with honest emotions, but he isn't. He's doing horrible things by being someone he's not and letting her befriend him, but he's actually emotionally cut off from her. He doesn't care about them at all, really, except for the slight pangs of guilt he gets when he sees how incredible this girl is. Even though it isn't heard in the lyrics, I think it's implied that he has guilt that he can't seem to work up the courage to go for an actual relationship, instead opting for rape and abuse."

Quinn is stunned by her response. Sure it was rambly, but it held so much meaning that it didn't feel run on at all. In fact, her opinion deserved the length Rachel gave it.

"I... I agree, wow, that was incredible. It makes perfect sense. Wow. Well... I'll see you in Glee club... Bye Rach." Quinn replies awkwardly, after a sudden bout of nerves.

She rushes off promptly after, with butterflies in her chest and a sinking feeling in her stomach. She might just have a crush on Rachel Freaking Berry.

* * *

**song used is Me Vs Maradonna vs Elvis by Brand New. I hoped you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. Tell me how much in a review, PM or favourite! Love all the response.**


End file.
